


First Meeting

by MarshmallowWrites



Series: Ironstorm Stories [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Arkom gets his ass kicked and falls in love, Arkom tries diplomacy with words but Cyclone dont do words only fight, Cyclone absolutely baby talks it when no one is looking, Cyclone is completely indifferent to him, Cyclone is the most chaotic character in our whole party, Cyclone’s charisma is -2 my dudes she ain’t a talker, Drama, Edit never???, F/M, Fighting, First Meeting, I got my torture out on my previous character so I’m not going to torture these two...as much, Poor boy spends next three years trying to win her over, Precious kitty cat, Yeet the story into the void, but has probably one of the only two not depressing backstories, chaos forest children led by the supreme chaos child, gotta love the demon fey cat beastie too, i love these two so flipping much, love at first sight (one sided), my dork children, obviously it works, seriously, the only other one is Arkom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 04:17:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17994698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarshmallowWrites/pseuds/MarshmallowWrites
Summary: The is the story about how these two first met. Brief overview—the town had a problem with beast attacks and raids from bandits and was quite small despite being in an opportune trade route position. Along comes Arkom who decides he wants to fix it, so he trains a town guard but needs more help from outside the town walls so he goes to the leader of the newly formed Wilds Guild. That leader is Cyclone, she hates rules and therefore hates Arkom. She formed the guild after a bad bandit raid killed a lot of other rangers and she decided they’d all fight better if they were organized (or at least her version of organized which is very different from Arkom’s version) so she beat the shit out of anyone who challenged her until eventually everyone agreed to join hergangguild. This is the first work of fiction I had written in three years so its rough as hell, I may return to it someday to polish it. But for the time being my focus is to just get these ideas down somewhere more physical than my stupid brain.





	First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and criticism is appreciated! This is unedited! Yup! Have fun deciphering it!

“Are you certain about this milord?” Bharash arched a scaly brow at his human liege, half hidden beneath his metal helm. He took care while stepping over one of the many fallen logs in their path. Despite his caution, moss and leaves still wormed their way into his steel armor, much to the normally cleanly Paladin’s displeasure. He paused once again, grumbling as he removed a particularly annoying branch that had managed to worm its way under his back plate. Quiet snickering from his companion distracted him from his goal.   
  
The dark haired man broke off the chuckling with a cough, “Sorry Bharash,” the young noble was not really sorry, the amusing sight of the stoic brass Dragonborn twisting in place trying to grab the stick was a welcome distraction from the human’s worries. The young man was sure that if Bharash had forgone the heavy plate metal like he had recommended, they likely would have made it to the ranger’s basecamp by now and been back to his manor in time for a supper. He glanced upward to the small light rays flickering in and out with the thick canopy of the dense forest. “We’ll need to pick up the pace Bharash, at this rate we’ll have to ask to spend the night there.” With a triumphant grunt, the male threw the offending stick to the ground.

“That’s only if the meeting goes well,” Bharash grunted as the duo continued their journey into the heart of the Wild Lands beyond the town wall. “I’ve had the...” Bharash’s brow furrowed as he searched for the right word, “opportunity to...meet their leader before...her strength is as well known as her unpredictability.”

“So you have warned me,” the man ducked under a low hanging branch, making sure to draw his shoulder cloak well away from the sharp thorns. “We still have to try, they know these woods better than any of us.If we want to protect the town effectively, we need their cooperation.”

“You keep saying their,” Bharash growled, “you should be saying her. We could get ripped apart by beasts right in front of the other and they won’t lift a finger without her say.” Bharash cursed and batted away a branch attempting to catch itself in his horns. “This forest hates me,” he grumbled, eyeing the branch with a face that said he wanted to light it on fire.

The human grunted in thought, “Fear or loyalty?”

“Whose to say, could be both. She’s strong I know that much, that could be how she keeps them in line.” Bharash grimaced and rubbed his shoulder absentmindedly as though reminded of an unpleasant memory.

“You lost, didn’t you.” The Dragonborn’s grumbling sigh was all the confirmation the human needed. “Can’t remember the last time someone beat you,” he was lightly laughing now, mindful to keep it in check for the sake of his companion’s pride.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever—you brought your sword like I told you right?” 

“Yes, like I’m going to walk into the Wilds unarmed,” the man responded dryly.

“Not for the beasts,” Bharash grunted, “for her. If we want her support, you’ll have to beat her in a fight first.” He spared a glance at the man walking beside him, “Hell, she might challenge you to a fight before you can even introduce yourself.”

“Good to know! I suppose diplomacy is out the window then?” The man adjusted his wrist guards, a subconscious nervous tick of his.

The Dragonborn chuckled, “Only the verbal kind.” His chuckle died off as he noticed the forest thinning out slightly around them. The sun’s light becoming stronger as they neared the clearing—it was only a few hours from setting but they could see their destination clearly, soon they stood in its shadow.

Smoke rose from the top of the structure—to call it a building would be an offense to buildings and architects alike in Bharash’s mind—in the center of the clearing stood a massive, hollowed out, gnarled tree trunk that looked like it had been struck by lightning. It loomed over the two outsiders and appeared both incredibly fragile and impossibly unbreakable at the same time. Sounds of revelry leaked out the “windows” which were little more than smashed out holes in the trees sides. A door was flung open with a crash as a figure flew out of the building, skidding to a halt at the two traveler’s feet staring up at them from its back. Before either of them could react, the scarred up wood elf giggled drunkenly and sprang to his feet with the grace a man of his level of intoxication should not have had.  
  
“Oye guys!,” the man called, cupping his hands around his mouth and stumbling back to the open doorway. “We’s got shume visiters! Fancy fellers, lookin’ like townsie folks!”

Bharash and the young man exchanged worried glances as the music and laugher died off discordantly. “So much for announcing ourselves,” the noble muttered to his companion. The two squared their shoulders and stepped forward deciding they might as well enter since the people inside already knew they were out here.

They stepped into the doorway just after the drunken elf who staggered back to what seemed to be a bar and snagged a drink off the stone counter. Bharash eyed the patrons warily, equally wary eyes flashed back at him, with side conversations and low mutterings dancing around the room. The noble quickly glanced around the room, several dozen hunters of various races filled the room, it looked like a tavern, a row of kegs even lined the wall on one side. It was surprisingly well furnished, a mixture of stone and wood chairs and tables of designs and styles as varying as the people who sat around them. Three halls branched off the main room, two to the sides and one straight back. He could not tell what lay beyond them. Something felt off about this place, and it was not its occupants. Though he was off noble background he had spent his fair share of time on the road and in taverns, there was something else off about this place.

“Well don’t just stand there with the blasted door open!” A gravely voice called from behind the bar, “Come on in and close the damn thing!”

Startled out of their silent staring, the two quickly complied with the deep voice’s order. “Over here.” Grunted the voice again. The duo crossed the room to the bar and the owner of the voice, coming face to face with a deep red tiefling, a nine foot tall tiefling, the noble noted glancing up to the ceiling also noticing that the ceiling was at the very least…twenty feet high? The dimensions of this room were certainly strange, he chalked it up to the fact that it is essentially a renovated tree stump.

The tiefling leaned on the counter as they sat on the open stools, puffing on a cigar that would be comically large on anyone else. He took a drag from it, and the man watched—barely able to keep a neutral face—as the cigar burned down halfway on one puff. “The name’s Melech, strangers, what can I do for ya?” Upon his introduction the tables behind them resumed their previous activities as though some requirement had been satisfied.

The noble straighten and cleared his throat, “I am Arkom Ironstorm, Captain of the Town Guard of Varis, and this is my second in command, Bharash Moltenfang. We seek an audience with your leader.”

Melech raised a bushy eyebrow and took a drag on the cigar, reducing it to a stub and crushing it out on the stone table. His eye flicked between Arkom and Bharash, looking contemplative before grunting and leaning to the side to look past them. “Cas. Get Talir, tell ‘em we got some people here to see the boss.” A young kenku with a cloak made of fallen leaves jumped up and darted down the hallway directly across the entrance, a small wolf pup trotting obediently behind her. Melech turned back to the two men, “Talir is our second here, explain yourself to him first and he’ll see if he to talk to the boss.” He reached under the bar and pulled out another cigar, lighting it with a flame he conjured on the end of his finger. “Anything I can get you in the mean time? Long ways to walk from the town. Everyone has to pay at my bar, so you better have brought some coin with ya.”

Bharash ordered the house ale, Arkom opted for water—he knew his ability to hold his drink wasn’t the best and knew he needed to keep a clean head if this mission was to have any attempt at success.

Both men had drained their drinks before the kenku and pup returned, leading a tall, gold skinned elf in green, moss-covered robes. Talir ruffled the kenku’s head and patted the jolly wolf pup as they scurried back to their table with the other young hunters and their pets. With an amiable smile the high elf strolled up to the bar and took a seat next to Arkom. “Will-o-Wisp please, my good Melech!” The tiefling grunted and moved off to get the drink. “Welcome to our Headquarters visitors,” the high elf smiled and bowed slightly with a hand over his chest, “I am Talir Argani, I’m the second around here. What brings you all the way here from outside your little walls?” Melech returned with his drink and Talir tipped him a silver coin and took a sip, seeming quite satisfied with his drink.

“I am Arkom Ironstorm leader of the Town Guard of Varis and this is my second in command Bharash Moltenfang, we seek an alliance with your guild,” Talir raised an eyebrow looking genuinely curious now, “It no secret that the town suffers from frequent monster attacks originating from the Wild Lands, our first and last line of defense is the Guard and the wall, and it is not a very efficient system. I propose that our two organizations work together, we from the town and farm lands, you from the forests. Not much would change in regards to the kind of work being done on both sides, what would change is how it operates, we plan on implementing a bounty system for particularly dangerous beasts as well as reward systems for certain problem creatures. It would also mean that during sieges and organized attacks by either packs or organized enemies that both our groups work together, with chains of command coordinating attacks and defensive tactics.” Talir’ face was unreadable but it did not seem like a negative reaction, so Arkom continued, “I do not expect your group to merge with ours, or for you to change your leaderships, truly all I need is a direct line of communication with you and your leader so that we may work together to improve the lives of everyone in the town and in our guilds.” Arkom waited for Talir’ response pensively, has face schooled into one of calm despite his nerves bubbling just below the mask.  
He did not notice it, but Bharash did—the rest of the room had fallen quiet again, a mix of grief and dawning acceptance, his friend and liege did have a way with words after all. Bharash knew they too had suffered heavy losses from the last organized attack on the town just a year ago.

Talir gave a small half smile and nodded, it took all of Arkom’s will to not let out the breath he had been holding in the whole time. “I’ll take you to the boss,” he set his drink down and raised a finger, “but you’ll have to let me do the talking,” Arkom opened his mouth to argue but Talir cut him off, “Trust me on this mate, I know her better than anyone else here, I can get your point across.” He raised another finger, “Second, how good of a fighter are you?”

  
Talir led them down the dim hallway, roars and cheers echoed from the room ahead. Arkom blinked against the sharp light change, he heard the sounds of fists contacting muscle, followed by cheers and hollers depending on who was winning and who they were cheering for. Talir motioned for them to step to the side of the room against the wall as he waltzed around the outside of the ring, behind the spectators, disappearing from sight hidden by the spectators and combatants. A half-orc in only leather pants was wrestling against a light grey colored Aarakocra dressed equally. Both fighters were easily seven feet tall and leaning towards the heavier side of build. Bharash was quickly drawn into the high energy fight along with the rest of the crowd leaving Arkom to watch for Talir. He was startled out of his staring by a high pitched cackling just beside him, jumping slightly he whipped his head down to see a pair of hyenas pacing and jibbering along with their masters roars—a golden and black spotted tabaxi seated just in front of them.

Arkom took a deep breath and closed his eyes to steady his nerves. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, something was watching him. Scanning the crowd as the fighting came to an end, Arkom’s eyes landed on a set of glowing red predatory eyes staring him down from across the ring. Suppressing the shiver that tried to run down his spine he watched as the fighters exited the arena, congratulated by the spectators on both sides. The eyes belongs to a large, sleek black cat creature—a Displacer beast—he noted in amazement. He had seen many creatures accompanying the ranger and druids of this guild but he had never heard of someone taming a Displacer beast like this. The creature lounged, sprawled at the top of a set of elevated stairs, it held a large bone it one of its foreleg pairs and Arkom watched, transfixed in its gaze as it lowered its jaws to the bone and while holding his gaze, cracked the bone in half. It was trying to intimidate him, he realized. As if it could read his thoughts, the beast blinked long at him and seemed to smile, though it was closer to a smirk. Gulping and staying mindful to keep his features neutral, Arkom pulled his eyes from the beast.

A flash of a familiar green robe caught his eye, Talir stood just behind the beast…next to the throne of bones the beast laid in front of. Arkom could not seen the throne’s occupant for the Aarakocra stood in the way—seemingly awaiting a new challenger to end the pit. He caught a flicker of blue hair that seemed to float on a non-existent breeze. One leg thrown over the arm of the chair wore long boots ending in what looked like claws fashioned onto the ends. A short sword and bow leaned against the jagged throne covered in various pelts—scaled and furred alike—both were studded in fangs and claws of different beasts their owner had slain.

Arkom shifted, his nerves betraying him. A throne of bones, fangs and claws as accessories, and a fucking Displacer Beast as a pet?! What kind of person was this leader.  
Bharash had not noticed the beast or the owner, he was watching the arena intensively as a gold scaled Dragonborn hopped the wood barrier and roared a challenge at the Aarakocra, throwing off his shirt and charging the reigning champion. Arkom sighed at this, knowing Bharash would be far too…distracted by the newcomer.

As the two clashed, Arkom finally had a clear view of the person on the throne, Talir was bent over whispering into the ear of the woman. Her skin was the color of a clear day’s sky, and her hair was a glacier blue, she wore a mask of teeth made to look like the jaw of a beast with the lower jaw open slightly to allow her to puff on an ornate pearl white bone pipe that glinted in the light as though a light frost covered it despite the heat of both the packed herbs and the room. She wore a corset lined in fangs and claws carved to fit in their space around her chest, the corset itself appeared to be made of scaled. She had a ripped dark colored pelt wrapped around her waist as a sort of skirt…it looked very similar to a Displacer beast pelt. Arkom’s eyes traced over her, when he made it back to her face he realized with a jolt that she was watching him…with a predatory gaze not unlike that of her pet’s…her eyes were blue and silver as though lit from the inside by silver flames.

Arkom felt his mouth go dry under her gaze, he had never before seen anyone as enrapturing as this woman. He straightened and nudged Bharash as Talir stood back up along with the woman, who picked up her sword. The beast rose along side her and paced at her side as she walked to the arena border. With a wave of her hand the fight stopped and the room fell silent, some looked to her, others followed her gaze to where Bharash and Arkom stood. The room was tense for a few moments as the leader looked them up and down, measuring them up.

She smirked, apparently enjoying their anxious shifting. With a jerk of her head the combatants exited the arena.

“Well then Arkom Ironstorm,” her hair whipped behind her a person wind current that billowed her clothes, “I have heard your proposal, now let us see you back it with strength!” With that she drew her blade and kept into the ring, her Displacer beast roaring behind her and pacing along the edge beside Talir.

Air Genasi, Arkom realized as he stepped forward to meet her. He drew his sword and stepped into the pit with her.

“I’ve always believed you learn the most about your opponent through fighting—words are cheap and easily faked, but the naked blade is harder to trick!” The woman twirled her blade, its hilt studded with long sharp fangs. “I am Cyclone, Daughter of Ajureg of the West Wind, and leader of the Wilds Guild!” With the animalistic grin of a predator, she fixed the lower jaw of the mask to cover her face again and leapt at him.

Steel meet steel and sparks flew as Arkom barely managed to block the attack, not only was she fast but she was strong too. Back and forth they traded blows, the crowd was on the edge with the tension as neither opponent had managed to land a blow on the other. Cyclone broadcasted her feelings of the fight, wild laughs and beastial roars interspersed with the clangs of metals. Sweat beaded on Arkom’s forehead as he dodged back out of range of her swipe, nearly falling backward as he landed wrong. He raised his long sword just in time to block her overhead strike, the were face to face mere inches from each other as they stared each other down over their locked blades.

“What’s wrong rich boy?” She still had that animalistic grin on her face, she was clearly enjoying herself. “Can’t hid behind that poker face forever, you’re still holding out on me.” She stated matter of factly.

“I—am—not!” He grunted with the effort of holding her off and now angry over her taunting. He shifted his gaze from her hands to her eyes. He saw no teasing or amusement there, only honest determination. What did she want from him? To abandon his years of training and fight like a animal as she does? What would he gain from that?

Arkom remembered her words at the start, this was a means of learning about each other—as unorthodox a method as it may be—maybe there was something to it. He had a feeling that even if he won, he would not win her approval, not as long as he fought with his emotions still hidden.

With a growl and grew into a roar, he threw her back lunging after her before she could recover, she dodged and swiped as he passed. He parried and they began their back and forth dance once more. Only now, both were smiling. Arkom felt free in a way he couldn’t remember feeling before, a booming laugh bubbled its way out of his chest—Bharash likely thought he had lost his mind. Hell, if any of his soldiers saw him like this they’d likely mutiny thinking he was a mad man. The crowd was cheering now, there seemed to be more people in the room than before.

Cyclone laughed and danced away from him, “Now that’s much better!” She paced the far side like a beast waiting for the cage to drop—mimicking her Displacer beast’s pacing along the outside of the arena.

They lunged at each other, ready to finish the fight. There was no holding back, they both brought their full strength to bare on each other. It felt like en eternity of back and forth but suddenly, Arkom found himself on the ground, chuckling still, slightly winded and staring up at the ceiling—it was equally as tall as the bar room and was decorated with a chandelier made of antlers, unsurprisingly.

Cyclone leaned down into his field of view, Arkom felt his mouth go dry again as the light from the chandelier cast a halo around her. He didn’t fully register her voice at first, he was too caught up in staring. The voice faded back in quickly, he coughed to clear his throat and grabbed her offered hand to help him up.

She thumped him on his shoulder, “Well rich boy, you’ve got your alliance.” Her smile dropped slightly, “However, I’m not one for your military rules and all so we’ll have to discuss that later.”

“Sounds like a fair deal,” Arkom smirked back at her, her grin growing to match it.

Arkom had no idea what he was really getting himself into, but he as he looked to the blue whirlwind of a woman beside him, pumping her fist to the crowd who roared in response, knew there was no way things would be anything near normal from now on.


End file.
